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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329693">when you dream of me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystallinee/pseuds/Crystallinee'>Crystallinee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adult Number Five | The Boy, Angst, Comfort Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual comforting, Number Five | The Boy in an Adult Body, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smut, fiveya - Freeform, soft smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:02:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,800</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329693</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystallinee/pseuds/Crystallinee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Too many lifetimes of loneliness have burrowed into his bones until he can barely breathe; he can't go slow enough with her. He can't stay away from her.  He's read her book enough times to know it by heart; knows what that little girl inside of her needs to hear and what she's aching for. </p><p>He wants her, with everything he's got.</p><p> </p><p>Five/Vanya.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Number Five | The Boy &amp; Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy/Vanya Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>156</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>when you dream of me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's the rough sting of gravel pressed into his palms that wakes him. Debris fills his lungs, pressing down on his throat. The taste of bile lingers in his mouth and forces its way through his teeth. He swallows it down, forces it back again.</p><p>There is the face of the abyss, reflecting too bright from a sun that slowly burns his skin until it cracks in the edges. He's been screaming his throat raw, but there is no other living creature left to hear him. There is nothing but silence.</p><p>She pulls him out of it, her voice cracking, and his eyes focus on her face. It's so close, he can feel her breathing. His hands are clenched too tightly, but she holds them in her smaller ones, coaxing him to let go of the breath he's holding. The oxygen is almost painful as it makes its way to his lungs again.</p><p>"Vanya," he mumbles, forcing his lips to form around the shape of her name. She's grasping him, shaking him awake. All he can see are those deep, brown eyes. They swallow him up like the night sky.</p><p>"It's okay," she whispers. "It's not real, Five. It was just a dream."</p><p>He slowly sits up in the bed, holding her gaze, grasping her shoulders with shaking hands. She leans in, puts her head on his shoulder and holds him too, holding him together. They stay like that until the darkness in the room slowly gives and dawn creeps upon them like shadows on the walls.</p><p>It's been too long and his eyes still haven't adjusted to the light. His body is new, in the shape of an adult, but his mind remembers. A new body can't fix what's broken in some other place. Vanya didn't get that luxury of shedding her past skin; she must live with it all every time she sees her reflection in the mirror. He can't escape it, either way.</p><p>And now, she's so close and reminding him that he is not the only one in the world with a heartbeat. It makes heat bloom low in his body.</p><p>Loneliness has done things to his mind; he knows that. It's not a lie but it's becoming an excuse.</p><p>He wants to place her down on the bed and take his time with her again. Time is running out and that thought never leaves him. He's always running from something, and he knows that every time he sleeps might very well be his last.</p><p>Too many lifetimes of loneliness have burrowed into his bones until he can barely breathe; he can't go slow enough with her. She's too close and soft and warm and she's someone who's breathing, someone who keeps coming to him. He keeps seeking her out, too. For better or worse, he can't stay away from her.</p><p>He's never cared about doing the right thing; the result is all that matters. He has been holding back for too long. He needs to feel her closer, make her shake and tremble underneath his hands, see her throat bared for him, her head thrown back as she completely crumbles and his name is on her tongue like a silent prayer. It makes the images from before shatter and fade. He'll stop at nothing to keep them at bay.</p><p>Five reaches out for her with unsteady hands, slower than he'd like. His voice is hoarse and he swallows hard. "Vanya -"</p><p>She presses closer against him. "I know," she whispers. Her breathing is too loud in his ears and it makes him unable to think straight. He's aware of every place their bodies touch, the contours of her body underneath her loose clothing, how desperately she seems to cling to him.</p><p>He wants her, all be damned, with everything he's got.</p><p>They've been sharing the same bed many times and they still do - maybe it's just an act of innocence for her, but recently they have kept up that habit ever since returning to this timeline. He doesn't really know why; if she's just missing someone else or if she is battling with the same kind of things like he does, but it helps him sleep easy. He never really intends to crash in her apartment, but he keeps doing it and she never seems to mind, often asking, begging, him to stay.</p><p>There is really nothing to be said when Vanya leans closer, and her lips hesitantly touch his. It's soft and timid like always, the underlying fear of rejection still lingers, until he kisses her back and he can't hold himself back. He hates himself for the things she makes him want to do to her when she's so utterly <em>gentle</em> with him, like the caring sister he remembers from their childhood. The word is a fraud - it tells nothing of their relationship. She is not a sister, even though he has used that word in weak moments.</p><p>She unbuttons her shirt when his hands fail to do so. Five's hands are usually so deft and quick but now he can't focus, the dread still lingers in his chest. He smells her hair to calm down. He helps her take her clothes off, slowly, in the same silence. He looks her in the eyes with all the devotion he can possibly find for this small, broken woman whose edges are so sharp. He's well-adjusted by now. She can't cut him on her fragments.</p><p>He knows his way all around those shards of hers, even when she makes the windows shatter.</p><p>Vanya leads the way, her hands are steady even in her silence. When she sits naked in front of him he strokes the side of her neck with a slightly trembling hand, moving her hair from obscuring her face. His hand feels too big for her neck, too rough and well used to violence. She looks fragile, even though he knows very well she isn't.</p><p>Five pulls her closer, adjusts her body against his and just holds her close for a few moments, trying to force down that urge. Then he slips his own clothes off and places her on the bed, as gently as he can.</p><p>He wants to hear her scream his name. It's the rawest, most carnal kind of desire than he keeps burying so deep he must dig to find it. It got lost in all that gentleness, to make sure she wouldn't break, but he knows better now. Vanya doesn't break like that; she could break him even when he's fucking her into oblivion.</p><p>He cradles her body in his arms when he touches her, lets his fingers find that place between her legs and strokes until she's slick and gasping. She's looking at him the whole time.</p><p>He's read her book enough times to know it by heart; knows what that little girl inside of her needs to hear and what she's aching for. He makes sure to tell her that, whispering soothing things into her ear, as she's trembling and his hand is between her legs, relentlessly stroking her with soothing movements. He dips his fingers into her. The tight warmth makes him shudder. With her eyes clenched shut and head thrown back, she gasps his name.</p><p>"Come for me," Five coaxes. He's so hard it takes all his willpower not to thrust against her. That familiar pride swells in him when he hears the windows shake and Vanya's expression turns euphoric, her eyes rolling back.</p><p>She'll come for him and no one else this way. <em>He</em> knows her better than anyone. It still sends a scorching heatwave through him whenever he thinks of her past lovers; none of them knew what she really needed. That idiotic serial killer only read what someone wrote about Vanya, he didn't know her. He has fucked every memory of Leonard out of her head long ago. The farm lady on the other hand, what she could she possibly know of Vanya's needs?</p><p>Vanya's hips move impatiently against his hand as he tilts it and dips his fingers deeper inside of her, pressing into that spot and he sees her struggling to not break the windows again. She comes with a choked moan of his name and there is nothing else in the world for Five, but her.</p><p>Five smiles as she comes down from her high. He spreads her legs a little wider, listens to her panting that makes heat churn low in the pit of his stomach, and adjusts her on the bed. He moves with assurance, pushing into her with one firm stroke, taking his time to let her adjust to him. She's so slick there's barely any resistance, a welcoming, soft heat he could stay in forever.</p><p>She's so <em>warm</em>. He groans her name quietly as his eyes flutters shut for a moment. There is no past nor future right now, only <em>her</em>.</p><p>His hands clenches the sheets, fighting the urge to give in to his instincts, repressed for decades and decades. The instinct to be gentle with her is stronger.</p><p>Vanya whimpers and moves her hips against him. Her arms embrace him and he starts to move, getting lost inside of her. He moves in quick, steady thrusts, getting as deep inside of her as he can possibly reach, watching her face for any signs of discomfort, as his grasp on himself slips, steadily.</p><p>Soon he's fucking her with all the reckless abandon he has and her nails are pressed into his scalp. Five can't think straight, only focused on the place where they're joined, and her face.</p><p>She knows that boy inside of him, too. She doesn't know all of what he has been through, but her intuition is as sharp as his. Every time he lost himself, surrounded by the smoking ruins of a wasteland; she would hold him and whisper over and over again that it's just a nightmare, and she's right there. She'll cradle him and let him gasp into her shoulder if he needs to.</p><p>She'll stroke the memory of blood away until he's choking out his groans and clenching the sheets, his hips stuttering against her as he moves slower.</p><p>"Vanya -" It's almost a plea, holding her as tight as he can without hurting her. She's real, and he will never let her go again. He watches her face, flushed and tender.</p><p>"I'm close," she mirrors him, her voice shaking with the force of another orgasm.</p><p>He wonders, in the heights of his bliss, just before spilling himself into her, what her blood would taste like. For a moment her lifeless body flickers in front of his eyes and he gasps. His release is almost physically painful, hitting him like a blinding force, and his eyes flutter shut. He comes into her and their warmth surround him, his head reeling. He gasps her name through his teeth.</p><p>Her nails dig into his back as if she's scared of losing her grip on him.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The world is red.</p><p>Vanya can't breathe.</p><p>Those things keep piling up now and then, following her mind's way into sleep; a one-eyed man's arms around her, suffocatingly tight. A firm grip on her shoulder, leading the way towards the dark, through a tunnel. She tries to squirm, unable to tear herself away, as he keeps leading her down.</p><p>Mom's red smile. Her sister's tense, pale face.</p><p>
  <em>I'm scared. </em>
</p><p>Red. It's all over her, on her hands and her clothes, and she's shaking, tears making her dizzy, breaths choking her up. And then she's screaming and her sister is not breathing. Five is gone and the world is terrifying and she is all alone.</p><p>
  <em>I'm the only one on your side. </em>
</p><p>She wakes up in silence. </p><p>But this time, Five is there. Over and over again he sits with her through the worst of it, until she regains her grip on reality and the haze lifts. She knows what she has done, there is no way around it. She'll sit in the bathtub underneath a stream of water that has since long gone cold, or lie curled up in bed, silent as a shadow with her arms around her knees. He will sit with her and then he will slowly help her up, pick up the pieces. The past only wavers underneath the touch of his hand.</p><p>This time has been particularly bad. His hands break through the haze of soundwaves piled up all around her, his voice snaps her out of it enough to regain her grip - and she forces herself to calm down, to not hurt him. She clings to him, breathing hard, grasping his clothes and pressing her face against his skin. He's there, not a shadow anymore.</p><p>She refuses to let go of him. She knows too much touching sometimes overwhelm him and makes him pull back, but he lets her.</p><p>"Don't leave me," she breathes, as he adjust her in his hold, cradling her.</p><p>"I won't."</p><p>He has told her before. He'll take care of her. He'll fill that role for her. He'll show her the way out. He'll listen to her and let her take care of him, too.</p><p>That knowledge soothes her as the tears run down her face and she clings to him harder, gasping softly into his neck and he strokes some hair out of her face. He's there, he's real and he will never leave her again. When her breathing is calmer and she's coherent enough he will let her take it further if she needs to.</p><p>"Please, touch me."</p><p>He's watching her, face twisted with something that looks like pain, but he won't say no to that.</p><p>That loneliness still echoes in her bones as they move together, their bodies pressed tightly together. She runs her hand along his back, whimpering and gasping and he's mumbling soft words into her skin, pulling her right back to the focus, the core of them.</p><p>He never lets her forget what they're doing, that <em>he</em>'s the focus of the moment, filling out every crevice of her being. He fucks her hard enough to forget everything else.</p><p>She belongs to him.</p><p>His hands are always cold, but they are safe. Five knows what he's doing, he always does. He touches her the way she aches to be touched with firm, skilled hands. He can mend that wound when they are between her legs, firmly placed on her clit, rubbing his palm in soothing circles. Then he focuses on the center of her until she can't hold thoughts any longer. They shatter like glass along with the windows. She inhales sharply and her hips buckles and jolts against his hand.</p><p>It what he wants, of course. She can feel his contentment when his mouth is on her sensitive, slick skin, his lips curled just slightly upwards in the same self-assurance. He's never failed any of his plans, she's just clay underneath his hands.</p><p>The relief is instant when he's inside of her, all she can think of are his hands. He cups the swell of her hips, runs his palms along her thighs and calves, making her hips jolt again and she clenches hard around him. He inhales sharply.</p><p>Vanya buries her hands in his hair, brushes it away from his eyes. In turn, he thrusts harder into her, bucking into her and she whimpers from the force of it. His arms are on either side of her hair, and his hot breath is on her face when she pulls him closer down again. When she comes, she almost cries from the force of it.</p><p>She doesn't want it to end, she doesn't want him to part from her, to leave her empty and longing again, but he's approaching his end relentlessly. She's so slippery he can barely stay inside, and his breathing is quick and strained.</p><p>He's slipping again, she can feel it in the tension in his muscles, how his gaze slips away far away, and she can only hold him, shield him.</p><p>"It's okay," she soothes. "I'm here."</p><p>He stutters then, his hips losing their rhythm and she sees him straining to focus again.</p><p>Five hugs her tighter to himself, and he comes with a strained moan, filling her up with warmth. With all her nerves tingling, she strokes his hair out of his sweaty forehead, and presses a kiss to the side of his face. They're both panting in the aftermath. He's still moving against her, slowly and gentler now, as if he's seeking and needing that warmth just as much as she does. She knows he needs that contact, while he's working his way out of the past.</p><p>Vanya likes it more than she should. He dozes off in her arms, and she watches him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Love to know what you think!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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